This week has been a zine come true for me.

For one, the Zine Library is truly hopping for the first time. We’re teaching up a storm these days, from ENG/Comp classes to Peace and Justice Studies…even first year seminars! Zines have never been a larger part of my life than they are right now, and it’s a welcome feeling as I welcome a new year of life on this strange planet.

I turn 28 in three days and cannot believe it. I have some special, nerdy music essays to post next week to honor the occasion, so stay tuned in for those!

Onto the main event—

Along with an incredible colleague of mine, I designed a full-blown meta-zine about zinesters and all the wild, wandering research rabbit holes they fall into as they make zines. We were asked by some super cool faculty to create this zine for a Research Symposium the university is hosting this weekend. I think it turned out really cool and wanted to share it here with anyone who wants to see it!

A very special s/o goes to , , , , and for their enlightening answers to a series of questions I asked about their research processes and philosophies. All of that is included in this zine, along with some really great quotes, resources, and critical reflection questions from scholars, designers, and librarians.

I wanted to make it digitally accessible for those who can’t access a print copy at this time, so here’s a Heyzine flipbook version! If you want the PDF file version to print, fold, and staple together, let me know! I can email it to you.

I also got the teach the coolest class I’ll probably ever teach this past week.

I was invited to give a guest lecture about tape and music zines in a first year seminar class about the history and evolution of physical media. It was honestly incredible. Students were entranced by the tapes, photo-zines, and tape player I brought along with me. One student even said something that will make the Boomers and Gen X’ers out there want to cry.

“I think my grandpa has a cassette collection.” LOL

It was such a joy to teach, and I am hopeful for more opportunities like it.

Anyway, you all know I had to make a minizine highlighting the Best Of our Tape Zine collection at the Zine Library. This gave me the golden opportunity to wax poetic about one of my favorite zinesters and Substackers, and his bitpunk.fm tape zine series. By the way—Josh, I played “Turn On, Tune in, Opt out” for the students, and they were honestly hooked. I think I may have to donate my entire collection of your tapes to the Zine Library for future generations of tape enthusiasts to enjoy.

I also featured bitpunk.fm in the minizine I made, along with several other favorite tape zines and w$sh li$t items found on Reddit and Bandcamp. This zine is easily the best and nerdiest zine I have ever put my design brain to, so I hope the tape enthusiasts of Substack enjoy it. Here it is, ready for you to print, cut, fold, and read.

P.S. I ordered a few select cassette tape cases to hold this minizine and give out to the students as a take-away. I am sending one to Josh, but if anyone else wants one, let me know. I know I’ve been bad at mail lately, so this will give me an excuse to learn how to ship things efficiently through the USPS!

‘Til Next Time!

Hi zine friends! I hope you all had a good week. Stay safe out there.

Upcoming Events in the Land of Zines (THIS WEEKEND):

• The Kansas City Zine Con (October 11th and 12th)

• The New York Queer Zine Fest (October 11th) (I am going to this and cannot freaking wait!)

A couple of housekeeping things—

• To those who signed up for the Gen X/Gen Z collaborative zine, please be patient with me! I really dropped the ball on this project and want to get it back up and running when I can. I haven’t given up!

• I liked interviewing zinesters for this research zine. Would you all want to see more formalized “Interviews with a Zinester?”

If anyone has any resources, thoughts, or zines to share with me, please leave ‘em in the comments below. Do you have a weird research rabbit hole you’ve fallen down? I would love to hear from you :)

Happy Zine Making!

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I’m currently sitting in the zine library, surrounded by zines on every topic you can imagine. It’s always gratifying to spend Friday afternoons in this small room of what was once the New York Times building. Doubly so when you notice the diversity of thought gathered here across our display shelves. So many wonderful, painful, and life-changing works represented here in such a way that makes me proud of what we’ve accomplished since this library was created a mere four years ago.

I’m also aware of how fragile this kind of place is in our current climate. Can a beautiful place like this continue to exist? Well, I certainly hope so and will fight to make that happen. It’s too important to lose.

Higher Education is in a strange place. This precarious tight rope we all walk seems to permeate everything these days—the news, the content we watch on our phones, the classroom…hell, even the workplace pantry.

Last week, a few of my coworkers sent me a link to a startling development in Texas.

If you didn’t hear this story yet, an instructor and two administrators were fired at Texas A&M at the request of a student who “disagreed” with what the instructor was teaching in a Literature course covering children’s fiction—simply by the mere suggestion from a book that there are more than two genders.

The student, citing Trump’s executive order from earlier this year, filmed herself arguing with the instructor saying it was “illegal” to teach such gender ideology. Texas Republican lawmakers and leaders joined the student’s crusade, calling for an massive audit of the course offerings and the dismissal of the instructor.

It was reported in the New York Times this past week that the President of the University has now resigned. Oh, boy.

When speaking privately before this all happened, Former Texas A&M President Mark A. Welsh and the student in question shared the following exchange:

In one of the clips, Welsh told the student that meetings with “the professor, the department head, the dean all went pretty well.” He said the university doesn’t want students signing up for courses without knowing what the content will be, and added that after reviewing the class, his recommendation was to “call it what it is” and make it for “professional-track people who want to study LGBTQ literature.”

The student interrupted and asked if he approved of LGBTQ studies at Texas A&M. Welsh said “only two” courses in the field were taught at the university. He added that “there is a professional reason to teach some of these courses,” including for careers like clinical counselors or jobs in government where “you want to understand the issues affecting the people that they’re going to treat.”

In another audio clip appearing to include Welsh, he asked the student about her intention for meeting with him and voiced his suspicion that the student was “trying to pick a fight.”

“What do you expect us to do, fire her?” Welsh asked, to which the student replied “absolutely.” He cut in with “well, that’s not happening,” and then the clip stopped.

Well—unfortunately, that’s exactly what happened. Dr. McCoul and several other administrators were terminated by the University pretty much immediately. I actually started seething when I read about this for the first time, particularly after I heard the audio clips and read the class syllabus.

Having attended both of my degree programs at a public institution in the Southern United States, I am honestly appalled at how this situation has shaken down. While I personally cannot remember an instance in which I or a classmate vehemently disagreed with the course content enough to call for the firing of the instructor, I’m sure there were plenty of times where there was disagreement and debate amongst classmates that made us think. Certainly, things could get heated in that realm, but it rarely reached beyond the boundaries of our classrooms. After all, that’s what a liberal arts education actually is.

It’s wild—I sit at an interesting intersection of this conversation. For one, I took courses in Film, Gender Studies, English, History, and Political Science. I experienced all types of classmates in all types of settings with all kinds of content. I worked with instructors in every discipline I loved, liked, respected, and in a case or two, politely tolerated. Still, I could never imagine calling for their dismissal over their teaching or work. Never.

Facing serious consequences for perpetrating sexual harassment, unfettered corruption, and plainly outlined misconduct is one thing. But being terminated for teaching well-documented content you’ve taught for years that a single student finds offensive? Hmmm. Sounds like a massive breach in academic integrity to me.

Even as an academic, I will acknowledge course and curriculum audits are important, but not in the “let’s censor people” way. I never imagined a university would be forced to do this after the firing and imprisonment of Angela Davis all those decades ago. I thought McCarthyism, the Red Scare, and the Blacklist were somehow behind us, but even that idea seems a pretty naive whitewashing of our history these days.

So here I sit, surrounded by these self-authored, self-published works I have devoted my life to stewarding, and you know what I thought?

“Jimmy Kimmel should make a zine.”

Now, look. I know how that sounds. He is a public figure/comedian, likely flush with wealth and assets most of us will never see in our lifetime. Jimmy Kimmel making a zine is sort of like Anderson Cooper or Joy Behar making a zine. It’s absurd. They have large platforms from which they can speak their mind at length, right?

I get it. It’s not what zine culture is about. If anything, we throw two middle fingers up in the face of the mass media any chance we get. We are anti-mass media.

But what happens when that mass media turns its back on you? What happens when the comedians and journalists lose that massive platform, seemingly overnight? Cause guess what—it happens in this world more than you think. Take a moment and read about the 1930s in Germany or the entirety of the Eastern Bloc after the Second World War. You may fine some pretty eerie parallels.

Kimmel would really benefit from making a zine because it’s basically the creative equivalent of telling any and all censors, losers, authoritarians, and sorry-sorts to go fuck themselves. Zines are and always have been the free speech medium. Yes, that comes with the caveat that people can create self-published material we may disagree with or find offensive. I could tell you all about the history of far right Polish zines and the decades of self-published KKK pamphlets. They exist.

But that culture exists because zines are, in Josh Datko’s words, “censorship resistant.” When you control the production and distribution of your work, it’s less likely to get you pulled off the Vaudeville stage abruptly, Kermit the Frog style.

It would really make a splash if he made a Bob Iger “fanzine,” satirizing how far from grace that guy has fallen in his attempts to make a shitload of money and kiss President Trump’s you know what. Same goes for all those CEOs and tech moguls. The lengths to which they go to make that guy happy just so they can make money are incredible. As a chronic people pleaser and former teacher’s pet, I would be impressed if I weren’t so disgusted by their spinelessness.

I doubt Kimmel would ever go back to Always Be Caving (I wish I could take credit for this one, but it’s a Bill Maher joke) after this devastating PR stunt. At least I kinda hope so, because it would be badass for him to say no dice to the Walt Disney Corporation and join the rest of us in the 21st century.

But—I also recognize how many people are employed by late night. To threaten their livelihoods is also deeply disturbing and a true sign of the nasty times. I can’t pretend to know the answer to that problem but would argue most of them just wish their leadership would show some class and stop capitulating. Defend us, damn it!

Anyway, since we’re all going back to basics, maybe all the late night hosts and comedians on Trump’s shitlist could make zines. Imagine just how many zines out there could exist about JD Vance’s ridiculous Fox News appearances alone.

What I really want to know is if any of them (the comedians, not JD) ever did. I have a sneaking suspicion Jon Stewart at least read zines back in the day.

To them I say (as if they could hear me), use the resources at your disposal, but do so wisely. Analog and authenticity seem to be the currency of the people now. Or at least, the people tired of AI, algorithms, and hatred ruining our lives. That’s gotta be more people than we think.

I don’t know. I’d still like to believe things might be different if social media didn’t hold our lives hostage. I find myself drifting into the present moment more and more these days, trying to send my doom scrolling patterns back to the hell from whence they came. I want to talk to people again and be part of an honest, real, and empathetic community. I still think that’s possible.

I guess all there is left to say is—thank goodness for free speech, zines, and self-publishing.

‘Til Next Time!

Hi zine friends! I hope you all had a good week, in the midst of well—everything. Stay safe out there.

Upcoming Events in the Land of Zines:

• The Kansas City Zine Con (October 11th and 12th)

• The New York Queer Zine Fest (October 11th)

A couple of housekeeping things—

• To those who signed up for the Gen X/Gen Z collaborative zine, please be patient with me! I really dropped the ball on this project and want to get it back up and running when I can. I haven’t given up!

• There is so much happening with zines this semester than I am hopeful I can write about it here. Let me know if there is anything you all hope to see from this newsletter in the future.

If anyone has any resources, thoughts, or zines to share with me, please leave ‘em in the comments below. I would love to hear from you :)

Happy Zine Making!

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I never thought I’d start to lose touch with zine culture, but alas…here I am.

The WIRED article from a few weeks ago sort of threw me for a loop. Actually, most things about zines these days throw me for a loop. I even forgot July was International Zine Month. I feel like I’m drifting off course at a rapid rate with no way to get back on track.

I love what this platform has brought me in terms of community, value, and inspiration, but it’s still a pervasive form of social media. The little green monster just won’t get off my fucking back. How naive was I to think I could avoid that little fucker forever.

Let me explain.

I have struggled with envy for most of my life. Be it financial, social, professional, or personal, I’ve come across so many people over the course of twenty-eight years, many of whom have seemingly brought this uglier side of me to the surface. It’s always been some version of the same refrain: “I wish I was as cool, talented, or smart as _______ is.”

Engaging with social media consistently since the age of twelve doesn’t exactly provide the best context through which to investigate and confront these faults.

As a teenager, I felt the regular peer pressures of “fitting in” tenfold. Instagram, Tumblr, Twitter, Facebook, and Snapchat all worked together to wreak havoc on the first generation of teenagers to go through puberty with an iPhone in their hands. I was ruthlessly cyber-bullied by friends and strangers alike. Instead of developing a thick skin, I would delete my social accounts in a panic and cry for days on end.

My ego just couldn’t take it.

Similarly, working in the performing arts actively made things worse, which is one of the main reasons I left that field. I lived in a perpetual state of jealousy. The competition was fierce. Every interaction was charged with some unspeakable layer of “Where do we fall in the talent hierarchy?”

Unfortunately, it was kind of obvious. I fell somewhere in the middle of the pack—a great singer, a decent actor, but a truly horrendous dancer. I wasn’t pretty or innocent-looking enough to play ingenue. I looked too old or too masculine or too severe or not severe enough. I played a lot of men and mothers and always found myself lost in the ensemble. I felt unremarkable. Negativity ruled my life.

I repeated these phrases to myself in the mirror every day like affirmations—

“You’ll never be good enough.”

“You’ll always fall short of whatever it is you’re chasing.”

“No one will ever see you, as hard as you try to be seen.”

When I went to college and shed that mindset like an old skin, something finally clicked. Zines found me at exactly the right time.

Many of the first zines I read were of the Riot Grrrl era and spoke plainly to an inner rage I’d never had the courage to express. There were typos. Everything was messily taped together or glued down. Words and images got cut off in the margins. As a long-time perfectionist with a massive stick up her ass, I was both entranced and confused by the DIY ethos. Finally, here was something I could participate in that didn’t have to mean everything.

I wanted more.

As a zine librarian, I’ve built close relationships with dozens of zinesters and their work over the last three years. Up until this year, I rarely, if ever, felt an ounce of envy towards them. Zines from every level, background, and creed surprised and excited me. I felt more inspired to make my own zines and find my own sense of artistic vision and style. I felt welcomed and accepted in a way I never had before. The zine community appeared to be envy-proof.

Then, I wrote that long, “Anti-AI” zine note back in May. You know the one—

Suddenly, strangers were asking me constantly about zines. What are they? How can I make one? Where can I find them? I had to mute the notifications out of fear of drowning. Once again, I felt the urge to burn my entire online presence to the ground in a panic.

I can’t explain why this triggered my fight or flight response. It’s illogical, but then again, most things on the World Wide Web are these days.

Ever since that note went viral, I’ve distanced myself more and more from this place and my newsletter because I never wanted zines to feel like an obligation or something to obsess over. Or worse still—a burden to have to carry. When I wrote this note, I had no expectations it would go anywhere. Then, suddenly, I had so many people to respond to—well-wishers, instructors, other librarians, zinesters, and of course, the dreaded AI Bros.

My Substack platform exploded overnight. I still don’t know that I have the emotional, mental, or physical infrastructure to manage it all efficiently. I feel guarded, resigned, and unsure how to move forward in this new era. I’ve mostly kept quiet on the zine newsletter front, perhaps with the hope that the gumption I felt four months ago might return without me having to do the reflective work to earn it.

Even before starting this newsletter, zines were a deeply personal thing. I made shitty zines without thinking about who would want to read them. I read as much as I could about the varied histories of alternative press, digging deeper into how this culture came to exist as it currently does. I rarely shared any of this with anyone, not even my friends.

Up until the last academic year, zines were barely part of my job description. I made them where I could so the typical 9-5 work didn't consume me. I taught with them maybe twice a semester. Our zine library was still very small. We were begging for money from every source just to buy $2 zines. I barely called myself a zine librarian. I think the first time my colleague introduced me as one to a faculty member, my brain short-circuited.

Zines? As a job? I couldn’t handle how deeply entrenched I was in my own imposter syndrome.

Still, I felt like zines were my calling. I somehow girl-bossed my way into being an advocate for zines and the people who make them—an accidental steward, if you will. With that role comes a lot of responsibility to the community, various distros, other libraries, and to individual zinesters. There are moments, more as of late, where I feel overwhelmed by the pressures that come along with being this public version of myself.

Even worse, I’m working on a zine for work right now and can’t seem to make anything that looks or feels right to me. I think some of this stems from the fact that a lot of conflicting interests have to be met with this single 16 page, quarter-size zine. There’s so much to cover. I can’t just spend a few hours on a shitty zine and call it a day. It needs to be well-designed & well-executed. Yet, I am having trouble achieving both. I can already feel the perfectionist thought patterns creeping back into my brain.

Zines used to center me in these periods of intense criticism and self-doubt.

I could take the J train to a friend’s zine workshop or the short walk over to the Zine Library. I could get up early on a Saturday and travel to a Zine Fair to soak up all the greatness of zines and their makers. Anything to bring me back to whatever it was that first spoke to me in that seminar classroom back in the Fall of 2017.

Now? I find my most private self trapped inside my public persona. What was once deeply personal—my safe haven—is now more or less my entire public identity. At shows and zine fairs, I introduce myself as a zine librarian. Part of me loves seeing their faces light up at the thought of someone getting to work with zines for a living.

Another part of me dreads what I already know is coming: the not-so-awesome intrusive thoughts forever reminding me of my own shortcomings and the pressure I place on myself to be “perfect” all the time.

“You’ll never be good enough.”

“You’ll always fall short of whatever it is you’re chasing.”

“They know you’re an incompetent and utter fraud.”

“No, Abby. No one wants to see your Michael Stipe Hands Zine.” (Well, maybe they do!)

All bullshit, really. If wading deeper into zine culture has taught me anything, it’s just how supportive and empathetic this community can be, particularly in our not-so-perfect moments.

I considered not posting this newsletter because I feared pushback. I feared rejection. To someone with a brain like mine, it’s easy—funny, even—to count up all the white lies you can convince yourself to believe in as universal truths.

Then I remembered how warm and welcoming the zine community has been here on Substack and beyond. Even in the midst of my months-long spiral, I recognized how lucky I am to be part of it, alongside so many of you cool cats. I feel accepted here, again and again, even when faced with setbacks and my own hang-ups.

Nothing is perfect, but the zine community comes pretty damn close.

Upcoming Events in the Land of Zines

• It’s International Zine Month! Check out Stolen Sharpie’s 31 Prompts for 31 Days of July!

• ABC No Rio & Bluestockings are co-hosting a Zine Swap! If you’re in the NYC area, you should swing by on July 19th from 2-6pm and swap some zeeens.

• 8Ball is hosting the FIRST EVER NY State Zine Fair on July 19th at La Plaza Cultural Community Garden from 12-5pm. I believe they will also have some live music, so it’s sure to be a freaking blast!

Til Next Time!

Hi zine friends! I hope you all had a good week, in the midst of well—everything. Thanks for hearing me out with this kind of newsletter. Stay cool out there, literally and figuratively.

If anyone has any resources, thoughts, or zines to share with me, please leave ‘em in the comments below. I would love to hear from you :)

Happy Zine Making!

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So much zine stuff is happening these days. I can barely keep track of it all!

First of all, I wanted to give a s/o to two of my favorite Substackers/zinesters, and for mailing me copies of their zines this past week. Your packages were a welcome sight to come home to after a particularly grueling Monday.

Jen—I really loved the Brownie Mix zine! I cannot wait to adapt the recipes to be Gluten Free :D

Josh—as always, bitpunk.fm never disappoints. I’ve really been loving the direction it’s going in with the radio show and call-in submissions. Also, thanks so much for the extra tapes! I can’t wait to dive into them this weekend.

Last weekend, I visited the Black Zine Fair to score some new zines for the ZL collection. I was pleased to have the opportunity to support some truly incredible black zinesters and artists, many of whom I hope to interview in future issues of the Zine-O-Sphere :D

Here are a few of the things I picked up—

It’s that time of year again—Finals Season. Over the last two weeks, I’ve helped numerous students scan, print, and make copies of their zines for final projects, presentations, and just for the hell of it.

One student made a zine cut into the shape of a mountain range. I was speechless, barely holding back tears by the photocopier as she described to me her hometown, her childhood, and how much she missed home. I won’t divulge where for privacy reasons but felt a kinship with her as another NYC-bound dreamer from a beautiful, but complicated rural place.

Students consistently create some of the most interesting and unique zines I’ve ever seen. I am blown away by their inventiveness and style every single time. It’s why I think zines should be incorporated into all any and all fields; they lend themselves so well to expression and reflection in almost every discipline, even STEM. The result is almost always that students walk away with more confidence in their creativity and authorial agency.

This past week, I made a minizine about my mom’s favorite collectible for her Mother’s Day gift. (Mom, if you’re reading this newsletter, please wait until your card arrives to read the rest 😊)

Growing up, my family was always surrounded by Fiestaware. We ate on Fiesta plates for every meal. We drank our morning coffee from the mugs. We even decorated the entire house in vintage and rare Fiesta.

My mom has collected it for well over two decades, scouring ebay, thrift stores, and the occasional tent sale for beloved second-hand items in every shade—Lemongrass, Cobalt, Heather, Sunflower, Tangerine, Peacock, Poppy, and so on and so forth.

These days, my mom goes to annual collector’s conventions and comes home with fantastic prizes and goodies to see. I myself have been to the factory twice and basked in the colorful, American-made landscape. Even now, I can spot a single piece of it in an antique store from a mile away. I know many of the color names, designs, and molds by heart. My mom, ever the passionate collector and teacher, taught me well. I made this zine to show her my appreciation for filling our rather chaotic and stressful lives with so much vibrancy.

Print it, fold it, cut it, and share it! Send it to a distant relative who loves Fiestaware or learn more about it for yourself :D

‘Til Next Time!

Hi zine friends! I hope you all had a good week, in the midst of well—everything.

A couple of housekeeping things—

• To those who signed up for the Gen X/Gen Z collaborative zine, please be patient with me! Now that the semester is over, I should have some more time to devote to collecting your submissions for the first couple of issues.

• Now that my Paint Chip Poetry series is complete, I’m considering choosing ten-to-fifteen of them to rework for a small chapbook. I’ve never made a chapbook before but feel remarkably inspired to take the plunge. Admittedly, I’m not as familiar with the chapbook side of the self-publishing landscape. I know a few, based on the miniscule collection of chapbooks we have in the Zine Library but want to learn more. I’m open to any and all poetry chapbook recommendations my poetry-minded readers might have!

If anyone has any resources, thoughts, or zines to share with me, please leave ‘em in the comments below. I would love to hear from you :)

Happy Zine Making!

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Whenever I tell people I’m a zine librarian, they give me one of the following reactions:

1. They ask me what the heck zines are.

2. They know what zines are and fawn over the fact I get to work with them for a living.

I am extraordinarily lucky to get to do this, but it wasn’t always the plan.

Three years ago, I moved to New York with my partner after the illustrious Library of Congress told me to go fuck myself.

See, I’d spent a year-and-a-half of my grad school days dedicating my waking hours to working for the federal government. I was so convinced of that job coming to tap me on the shoulder and say “Hey, babe. It’s you. We want you.” Instead, I was ruthlessly rejected and moved my entire life to New York in order to lick my wounds in the privacy of a Northern Manhattan apartment.

In retrospect, I think the universe did me a favor. Politics aside, getting that Library of Congress job would have been great, but it also would have led me down a path I’ve since decided isn’t for me.

Back then, I was a chronic overachiever, desperate for structure, accomplishment, and accolades. I worked myself ragged every single day. I worked three jobs, all while being a full time grad student. I completed two internships and made dozens of connections with librarians all over North Carolina. I was even chosen to give the graduation speech for the entire department.

My grad speech in library school was an interesting omen of things to come. I wrote about feeling like a trapeze artist, stuck between the poles. I tried my best to sound hopeful that I might “find myself” in the midst of post-grad school chaos. Even at the time, it was overly-optimistic. Still, many of my fellow students and professors told me how sure they were I would find a great job.

On the outside, I appeared put together and excited for the future. Inside, I was floundering.

When I arrived in the city, I stayed in the dark apartment for a month straight. While New Yorkers enjoyed the June weather, I stayed inside, got high, ordered take-out for every meal, and watched the entirety of Friends. (I was not well.)

After a series of odd part-time jobs, I finally found myself interviewing for the job I currently hold. By some miracle, they liked me enough to hire me. Now, I have entire job devoted to first-year student library outreach. It takes up a fair bit of my work time in the Fall. I orient some 1,000+ first-year students to the library—our services, our collections, and our fabulous staff. It’s a good job but also stressful.

Thankfully, I spend the Spring semester recuperating from the intensity that is my life from July-December. Spring/Summer really is zine time. A lot of the classes I get to teach in the Spring are zine classes. Many Zine Fairs and Festivals happen in the Spring. We do most of our buying and acquisitions in the Spring.

In short, Spring is for ZINES.

After several years of personal chaos and upheaval, I’m thankful I moved to New York and found my own way without the aid of a prestigious cultural institution or education. My life really has become DIY in a sense, and I am finding I prefer it that way.

In the spirit of that ethos, I thought it might be fun to write a little newsletter about what a week in the life of a zine librarian can look like…

On Monday, I finished a few zine templates and created a meta zine about how to make a half-sized zine on Canva. It’s linked here for those of you who were asking for it. If you want to use any of the templates linked in this zine, please just make sure you “make a copy” of it in the File Settings before you start editing :D

I also spent most of this week learning about new formats in preparation for a zine-making class. Before this semester, I’d never made an accordion style zine or a quarter sized zine. I’d only ever made two half-sized letter zines. My go-to zine is always and forever a minizine, but it was a nice change of pace to learn about some other sizes and how best to fit a project/idea to the zine type.

For example, I’ve always wanted to make a full-blown Gilmore Girls fanzine but never felt like a minizine would be enough space with which to explore the subject. So, I decided to give a quarter-size zine a try. I am really pleased with the sizing and how easy it is to alter the design to make something interesting. (Note: when making one of these zines digitally, the pagination can be kind of nightmarish if you’ve never worked with it before. I made myself a template to better understand which pages go where. It’s also linked in the how-to zine above, if you’re interested.)

Finally, I took it upon myself to make a lesser-known and utilized zine type as an experiment. This past week, I was really into U2’s Pop (1997) and made my love known here on Substack. After a rousing conversation about U2 with , , , and , I decided to take this criminally underrated U2 album and make a fanzine to honor its genius.

Here it is in all its kaleidoscopic glory.

I utilized original album art images from the CD booklet, as well as the infamous PopMart tour aesthetics. I also featured several quotes about the album from Bono, The Edge, and a variety of music reviewers. Finally, I was able to design a full poster on the back side of the zine for those of us who long for the fold-out posters from magazines of yesteryear (Tiger Beat, I miss you.)

One thing I realized as I was making this is just how well U2 seems to understand album aesthetics. Yes, by the time they made Pop, they had an entire team behind them to make something great, but here’s the thing. I own several physical media copies of their various albums, and every single one of them just hits. I really wish I knew all this when I wrote my Liner Notes essay back in 2023. I would have gladly included them as one of my shining examples.

Overall, I’m really quite excited by the opportunity to create more types of zines. My next goal is to make a a CD booklet-type zine and J-Card zine (which my good friend already does with his tape zines. If you all are so inclined, check out bitpunk.fm). These formats are so intriguing to me, and I think it could be cool to make some music fanzines utilizing them.

On Tuesday, I taught a class where students were tasked with creating analog zines from scratch using found images, stamps, and their own imaginations. I brought along all of our Zine Library supplies, as well as magazines and newspapers from my personal collection of ephemera.

It went well, and I was once again impressed by the level of ingenuity and creativity Gen Z possesses. When given the right tools, resources, and information, they can craft some really incredible stuff. (To my surprise, one of them even incorporated one of my American Girl catalogs into their zine!)

On Thursday, I helped a student figure out how to photocopy their collaged minizine original. I thought it would be simple—a eight pager easily unfolded and photocopied. However, this student’s zine was twelve pages…stapled together. “All okay!” I told them when they gave me the familiar, embarrassed apology face.

It gave us a fun little puzzle to solve together. After much trial and error, we managed to figure out how they could create multiple color copies. We ended up having a blast, standing over the photocopier and laughing about how unbelievable it is my staff printing money allotment is somehow well over $1,000.

While we worked together—copying, scanning, cutting, and gluing—we spoke at length about the content of their zine, as well as bonded over our shared distaste for those who care just a little too much about student flyer policy. While I won’t go into the specifics of their zine for privacy purposes, I will say I was impressed by their use of color, composition, and style, especially for a first time zine-maker.

Every time I work Gen Z in this way, I feel a little bit better about the state of the world. Despite what our elder generations may think, Gen Z is learning the ropes of what it means to be an adult in a crumbling society, even if they’re taking a bit longer to get there. They’ve grown up in an era where the norms established by decades of civility have been ripped out of the big book and thrown into the street to be run over and endlessly pissed on by dogs. Gen Z is coming of age in an era unlike any other.

This all rises to the surface of my brain any time a Gen Z’er comes up to me and asks me how I discovered zines and librarianship. I tell them the story of my first zine and the class that changed my life. I tell them I was in college during the first Trump term and the start of the Covid-19 Pandemic, which seems to bond us in ways I’ve only just begun to understand. I tell them about my first real job interview after grad school where I serendipitously met one of the zine librarians I cited in a final paper on zine pedagogy. She’s now my coworker and a good friend :)

I tell them all this with the hope our paths crossing will inevitably lead them down the path of zine-making and creativity. Regardless of what they do in their lives for income, zines are one of the purest forms of expression. The spark in their eyes gives me immense hope. By teaching them about zines, I hope I impart even half of the wisdom that’s been given to me over the last decade.

On Wednesday, I had the pleasure of hosting one of my favorite zinesters, creators, poets, and alt comedians, , at the zine library. She dropped of her latest photo zine featuring stunning portraits of lesbian hands. We then spent an hour-and-a-half pouring over the zine library historical collection, including original copies of The Furies from 1972 and issues of NYQ and Bust Magazine.

I love having zinesters from outside the campus community join us in the zine library. Having met so many incredible zinesters in person, on Etsy, and here on Substack, I want to do more of this work now that the Zine Library is well-stocked and booming amongst the students and faculty. Having the zinester community involved in our archival work is essential to the success of a fledgling library like ours.

Here’s hoping we’ll be able to host zinesters in the future (and maybe our very own zine fair)!

‘Til Next Time!

Hi zine friends! If anyone has any resources, thoughts, or zines to share with me, please leave ‘em in the comments below. I would love to hear from you :)

Happy Zine Making!

(P.S. Party Girl is the reason I’m a librarian. Not really, but it validates me in my music-obsessed, young, radical librarian who hates Melville Dewey ways.)

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There’s just so much impressive work out there that sometimes, I feel bogged down by the pressure to make something even half as impressive.

It happened to me today while scrolling my Substack feed. There are so many incredible artists and writers and makers here. Most days, I thrive in that headspace and enjoy seeing it all with a smile on my face. Other days, that familiar little green monster returns to my shoulder and says, “Hey, toots! Long time, no see.”

So, to funnel this envy and self-pity into something positive, I decided to take the afternoon to make a shitty zine.

Being an artist-academic is a tough gig. I’m used to holding myself up to ridiculous standards, grading systems, and rubrics. It’s practically been beaten into me. There are days where all I want is for everyone to take one look at me and say “Wow, she’s really good!”

That’s what happens when you’re born with something people consider a “gift.”

For the first half of my life, I was known for my singing voice. Everywhere I went, people told me how beautiful it was. Mostly, adults would go on and on about how much talent they saw in me. Old ladies would come up to me after a church solo, take my hands in theirs, and say “My, my. What a beautiful voice you’ve got there.”

My voice drew people to me—older men, boyish crushes, well-meaning teachers, and cautious frenemies. It all felt like they wanted something from me. It felt like my “gift” was the only thing people saw when they talked to me.

It all out me on the path to some pathological validation seeking. I trained classically with a voice instructor fir six years. I sang in the adult choir at Church. I was in the high school glee club and performed in dozens of local theatre productions. I spent my summers going to weeks-long music camps and singing with forty other teens just as talented as I was. I made it my job to please everyone around me.

And still—I knew there were so many with better voices, from several girls I knew personally, to the all the people on TV. When I did theatre as a teenager, I struggled with this constantly. It appeared as though everyone was infinitely cooler, smarter, and more talented than me. I lost out on parts to girls who were prettier than me, yet, felt honored to have the privilege of singing backstage harmonies. I learned that lesson pretty early—there will always be someone better than you at x, y, and z.

I started to resent it. I started to reject any talent I had outright because I hadn’t earned it. Even then, the talent I seemed to possess only brought me so far. Always an ensemble member, never a lead.

Eventually, I stopped singing. I stopped writing. I stopped doing pretty much anything except studying. I wanted people in my new life—college, my career—to see a brand new side of me. I wanted to read long books and be taken seriously. I learned how easy it was to stop expressing myself. It was startling how many people would take me at my silent word when I stopped speaking up.

I felt lousy about all of this for years until I made my first zine.

Frankly, it wasn’t very good. There were easily a thousand typos, about a dozen poorly-made collages, and plenty of half-baked thoughts from my nineteen-year-old brain. Like some kind of end-season soup, I threw in everything I had left in my creativity pantry. I scoured my residence hall’s makeshift library for magazines, construction paper, and markers. I borrowed song lyrics and printed out random images to glue on top of each other. It was messy and funky and weird and ugly and unsettling and so many other adjectives I can’t even name just now.

Yet, I loved it. I loved the process of making it—of spending four months writing, drawing, cutting, pasting, and creating something. I loved that I loved something I wasn’t very good at. I realized how liberating it is to make a crappy art piece or write a shitty poem. There is something thrilling about being mediocre and having no concrete artistic talent, degree, or skillset in a particular field.

All the work I did for my voice—my natural-born talent—never felt like that. I never took ownership over it because I never had to fight for it. I rarely struggled to hit high notes. Singing harmony came as easy to me as breathing. Still, it belonged to the rest of the world, not to me. It was for everyone else’s benefit.

But zines—zines were for me.

That’s when I realized it. I needed to reclaim creativity. I needed to make something for my own self first. See, that’s where I found true vulnerability and authenticity. I realized those precious qualities are not in held the sought-after praise of elders or the comment sections of Instagram, Substack, or Tumblr.

True artistry is best discovered in one’s willingness to create for their eyes only.

Then, if and when you release it into the world, it may or may not resonate. If it does, gratitude extends tenfold. If it doesn’t, well—at least you made something worthwhile. You made it for you. You made art for art’s sake.

This has been my artistic journey over the last few years. I’ve moved to new cities, joined writing workshops, written bad poetry, and made countless zines, a few of them pretty shitty. I did it all to reclaim my creativity—to express myself in exactly the way I wanted.

Even more incredible, I starting singing again.

I’m not sure I’ll ever sing in public again, though a good friend recently encouraged me to seek that out, however it looks, on my own terms. Maybe I will someday. For now, I sing my favorite songs in the shower. I hum to myself when I do the dishes. I sing at concerts when the artist asks me to. I do it all for myself and those I feel closest to.

In the spirit of this philosophy, here’s a sneak-peak at a silly zine I made about the benefits of singing loudly and off-key. If you want this pictured print copy on the pretty salmon-colored paper and the pretty edges, send me a note/message with your mailing address.

I’ll mail it to you with a beloved stamp and maybe some other stickers or something :)

P.S. While I wouldn’t exactly say my zines are bad (which is subjective), they are definitely imperfect. I am learning to like that. Beyond all talk of improving the more you do something, zines are the best, low stakes medium with which to create your insomnia-fueled, half-baked ideas. I wish more people could take on projects with the idea of making something imperfect. It’s more liberating than you might think!

P.P.S While at a show this past week to see the band Frog, there were a gaggle of incredible ladies beside me singing their asses off—loudly AND off-key. It made me so, so happy.

We’re making a zine!

Are you a member of Gen X (1965-1980) or Gen Z (1997-2012)?

This is an open call to all Gen X’ers and Zoomers here on Substack and beyond. Let’s create a zine about us—our values, our technologies, and our lived experiences. The aim of this zine is to shed light on our similarities, as well as our hang-ups and differences. On what do we disagree? Where do we align? Where can we take pause, reflect, and find common ground?

I open this up to contributions about a variety of things—our music, our pop culture, our technology, our workplace behaviors, our philosophies, and even our political leanings. Please feel free to submit essays, critique, poetry, interviews, oral histories, artwork, and anything else you all feel may be relevant to communicate these ideas.

If interested, please fill out this contact form by next Friday, April 10th at 5pm. Next steps will soon follow!

‘Til Next Time!

Hi zine friends! If anyone has any resources, thoughts, or zines to share with me, please leave ‘em in the comments below. I would love to hear from you :) Happy Zine Making!

Now, if you all will excuse me, I’m going over to my record player and spending the rest of the weekend spinning the four new Weather Station records I just bought, looking exactly like this—

The Zine-O-Sphere is your hub for all things zines, including books, libraries, digital collections, festivals, distros, workshops, and of course, individual zinesters and their incredible work. My hope is that by sharing these resources more widely, more folks will find their way to the wonderful world of zines.

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I finally did a brief show-and-tell of some zines I’ve made over the last year, including a Clairo fanzine I made for a friend, my submission for ’s March D20 Zine Challenge, and my “In Under An Hour” mini zines series.

Thanks to , , , and anyone I missed who happened to join halfway through the Live for watching me wax poetic about all of my favorite things—zines, libraries, music, Gilmore Girls, and Lady Bassists :D

Is this a bit disjointed? Yes, but what else are Live videos for but rambling show-and-tells and talking to all your favorite Substack pals in the comments? Exactly.

Be sure you go check out and their awesome zines and musings on life, creativity, and many other things!

P.S. I know the Patti Smith tribute was last Wednesday…not sure why I said “weekend”…

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Nothing—and I mean nothing— beats the AUDACITY of Canadian Teen Television.

Seriously. Even as someone who grew up in an Democrat-only, NPR/PBS household, there are just some portions of the American childhood experience you can’t escape, including abstinence education and “sanitized” media.

Still, my generation was lucky enough to find Canadian teen television in the form of three particular shows on Teen Nick and the Disney Channel: Naturally, Sadie; Life With Derek; and of course, Degrassi: The Next Generation.

Now, you all need to know something about Canadian teen soaps—they do not shy away from anything. They cover everything. Teen pregnancy? Yup. Unprotected sex? Definitely. Sexual Harassment and Assault? Yeah. Queer characters and storylines? Absolutely. Bullying? For sure. Suicide and mental illness? Of course. Substance abuse? Well, duh. Cancer? Yes… School gun violence? *sigh* Unfortunately.

In other words, Canadian teen soaps make shows like The Secret Life of the American Teenager and Dawson’s Creek look like primary school shit.

The very first episode of Degrassi: The Next Generation is about Emma Nelson escaping a child predator she met on the Internet. There are not one but TWO episodes within the first season of Degrassi about eighth and ninth graders doing DRUGS and facing actual consequences for it. Season 2 brings the arrival of Craig Manning, a troubled teen with an abusive dad who, spoiler alert, DIES shortly after Craig is removed from his home by Canada’s version of CPS. (The dad dies, not Craig.) In Season 3, fourteen-year-old Manny Santos has unprotected sex, gets pregnant, and THEN has an abortion in the span of a month…at fourteen.

Lest we forget about the infamous thong scene burned into our millennial/Gen Z memories—

(Me too, JT…me too.)

American Teen Shows could never. I love Dawson’s Creek, the OC, and Gilmore Girls as much as the next white millennial, but they could NEVER. (Except maybe that insane plot where Pacey Witter loses his virginity to his English Teacher…what the heck was that???)

For almost fifty years, Degrassi has never shied away from covering the real, raw truth of being a teenager. Similarly, everyone who watched Life With Derek in the mid-2000s was painfully aware of the ridiculous, border-line uncomfortable chemistry present between step-siblings, Casey and Derek. That’s honesty on a level most of us can’t even acknowledge because it’s just that taboo.

Obviously, Canadian teens are much better equipped to handle the pressures and pitfalls of adolescence and early adulthood with shows like these running on their TVs. Right?

My fascination with Canadian teen television has always existed in some form or another. So, by the time I discovered Our Hero, a Canadian teen drama about a girl who makes zines, I felt like I’d somehow struck gold.

Here’s the premise—

Kale Stiglic is just a regular teenage girl, except she’s also really cool cause she makes and distributes a monthly zine entitled Our Hero. Alongside besties Mary Elizabeth Penrose (religious nut) and Ross Korolus (gay bff), Kale moves through the teen girl world with a spectacular talent for documenting her every thought, action, and lesson in the photocopied pages of her zines.

Told in alternating live action shots and collaged, stop-motion animation, Our Hero is easily one of the most unique teen shows I’ve ever seen. In the vein of Lizzie McGuire, Kale learns all the important lessons a teen has to learn—the importance of true friendship, unimaginable heartbreak, grief, and, of course, the running theme that things may not always be as they seem. Unlike Lizzie McGuire, the show tackles topics in the way Degrassi does. Nothing is off the table.

The first episode is about a fight between Kale and her dad, a newspaper comedy columnist. He’s written about a particularly embarrassing moment from her life, without her permission. Kale is understandably furious and seeks to take revenge on her dad by publishing old, saucy love letters written between him and her mother in the place of his column.

Sooo embarrassing, right?

Except—those letters were NOT addressed to her mother. Kale unintentionally publishes letters from her father to his mistress and threatens the very foundation of her parents’ marriage, forcing her to reconsider her actions and come to terms with the fact that revenge is often not the best policy.

Other episodes in the first season follow Kale as she goes on dates with hot guys from the copy place, becomes “zine famous,” and gets a job at a health food store to afford to print additional copies of her zines. Yup. You heard that right. A character who makes zines and works in a health food store is named KALE. Like, her parents thought it would be a good idea to name a child after a LEAF??? What is this, Portland? (No, it’s Toronto.)

Now, we can’t forget Kale’s older brother, Ethan. He’s going through a period of separation from his super hot wife and attempting to become a stand-up comedian. (Apparently, you can make this stuff up.)

Unbelievably, there’s an episode where Ethan gets completely hammered and kisses Kale’s ultra-Catholic, sixteen-year-old best friend Mary E. (Keep in mind, Ethan is married and probably in his mid-20s.) This all leads to an utterly awkward confession scene in which Mary E. admits to her Priest that she wanted to kiss Ethan and the only reason they STOPPED is because she saw a “naked lady dog tag” hanging around his neck…taking it as “a sign from God” she shouldn’t be there.

Yeah, I have no words and neither does her Priest.

On a more serious note, the episode I cannot stop thinking about is Season 1, Episode 2, wherein Kale writes about an erotic dream she had about her English Teacher, Mr. Henry. When I tell you all I audibly gasped at how real this episode felt to me, I mean it. It felt like I was watching my younger self try to flirt with her married male teachers in high school. I paused it a few times to take some obligatory second-hand embarrassment breaks and scream into a pillow.

The episode culminates in Mr. Henry reading Kale’s zine (i.e. the wet dream) and inviting her to a movie. If your mind immediately went “Danger, Will Robinson” in response to that, so did mine. I was petrified for her, already expecting the worst.

Instead, Mr. Henry gives Kale some really solid advice about life, passion, and creativity. He tells her about this affair he had with a woman in Hong Kong and how it fundamentally altered his approach to being. Kale is completely enamored with his zest for life and admits in her final voiceover, “For the record, I do not want to sleep with Mr. Henry. I think the point of my dream was that I find him attractive because 1. he has something to say to me and 2. he has passion and isn’t afraid to use it.”

I appreciated this nuanced point. As someone who has struggled with crushes on older people in the past, it can be difficult to parse through those feelings and identify which is which. It gave voice to something I could never articulate before now. The fact that Kale and Mr. Henry end on pleasant, appropriate terms is quite stunning. It’s also fairly realistic. It’s exactly what happened to me. This is the first show I’ve ever seen portray it in such a direct, destigmatized way.

Yes, you can make the argument that this show is just as cheesy as most unhinged teen dramas are. Then again, it’s so much more than the stereotype. The zine element brings something fresh to an otherwise cringe-y display of teen awkwardness and all-too-familiar life lessons. Kale’s episodic reflections make sense within the context of her zine. The stop-animation sequences and collages are equally unique and surprisingly hysterical.

The production itself appears to employ the same DIY ethos it spotlights. Our Hero is scrappy, inventive, and, at times, entirely self-aware. There is no room for censorship or tip-toeing around the issues here. Everything is out in the open in the best possible way. Queer characters are treated like real, complex people. Teenagers experiment openly with sex and drugs. Kale learns important lessons without the heavy-handed lectures typical of most American teen dramas. She learns by experiencing life on life’s terms. She makes her own decisions and lives out the consequences of those decisions no matter what. For a teen drama with this many insane subplots, Our Hero is remarkably grounded.

The same could easily be said of zines and self-publishing. These are spaces where we can be free to talk as openly as we’d like about any topic we’d like. When we make zines, we have the opportunity to create the kind of work traditional publishing models often limit or outright reject.

As Kale discovers throughout the first half of Season 1, her zines provide her with an important outlet for creative expression. She gains confidence and challenges herself to be better. Her voice soars with each new issue. I’d like to think that feeling is what drew most of us to zines in the first place—our desperate need for expression on our own terms.

Well—that, plus a wink from the hot clerk behind the Kinko’s counter certainly doesn’t hurt, right? 😉

Upcoming Zine Workshops, Events, and Other Stuff

• Society of Illustrators MoCCA Arts Fest 2025: Manhattan’s largest indie comics & cartoon festival happening Saturday, March 15 and Sunday, March 16! This multimedia event draws over 8,000 attendees and over 400 exhibiting artists that exemplify the limitless aesthetic and social power of comics and cartooning. Get tickets here.

• The IE Print Zine Fest is happening this weekend from 11am-6pm on March 15th. S/o to for letting me know about this one!

• The Biggest Little Zine Fair and PLACE.LB are cohosting a Zine Workshop on March 29th from 12-4pm. Check it out, if you’re in the Long Beach area!

‘Til Next Time!

Hi zine friends! I’m so glad to be back amongst the living and writing about zine culture again. If you want to watch any of Our Hero, you can find it on YouTube. I am planning a whole series about this show and diving deep into the nuances of its portrayal of early-2000s zine culture. I hope you all follow along!

If anyone has any resources, thoughts, or zines to share with me, please leave ‘em in the comments below. I would love to hear from you :)

Happy Zine Making!

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Having come of age during the first Dump term and now living as a fully-fledged adult in the midst of the second one, I am familiar with the slippery slope of pessimism. I remember how petrified we all felt on November 9th, 2016. I had just turned nineteen. I was just a kid. The future appeared bleaker than I previously thought possible. Some days, many as of late, this seems more true than ever.

The thing is—I refuse to let any one person or fascist rob me of my optimism or joy.

Lately, I’ve found a stunning online community of artists, zinesters, and writers here on Substack, as well as a growing number of true friends in my real life. After many years of living with an undiagnosed chronic illness, my health is slowly, but surely, on the mend. I’m feeling more creatively fulfilled than I ever have, thanks in part to these communities and my own desire to reconnect with a practice and lifestyle that was lost to me.

I refuse to allow anyone, especially a politician or corporate snake, to dictate how I should feel or act or be. I resist the pressures of staying silent and the delusion of living in denial. I remain aware, but not influenced.

After all, we have work to do.

With that being said, here are some happy moments from the last couple of weeks, as well as a free zine I made a couple of years ago for a friend. Feel free to disregard the Spotify Playlist link. I can post the full track list another time, if people are interested.

(Also, those zines in the bottom left-hand corner? Those may or may not be my entry for ’s March Zine Challenge😉😎)

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Thank you to the folks who joined me for this music zine tour! Special thanks to and for all their great comments and support for this first live video :)

For those of you who may have missed this, please feel free to scrub through the recording at your leisure. Catch you all at the next one!

I’m also linking to all the zinesters I mentioned below:

Chris Cohen

• Instagram

• Sonic Youth Music Video

• His Latest Album

SkiFalls Publising

Go check out more of Elliott Giannini’s amazing zines!!

• Substack:

• Their Shop/Website

Jefferey Lewis

• Shop

bitpunk.fm &

DeathBySheep Records

• Instagram

• BandCamp

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In the Fall of 2017, I was nineteen-years-old, single, and a virgin.

Now, I wasn’t someone who held onto virginity for religious reasons or because I just hadn’t had the chance yet. I’d had plenty of chances. Well, okay, at that point, I’d had maybe one or two real chances and squandered them out of fear, awkwardness, and immaturity.

When I was in the thick of it, I thought it was mostly involuntary. I liked people. I made the effort to date. I used the apps. I talked to older, attractive men all the time, even as a high schooler. They just didn’t want to date (see here: fuck) me.

It was actually kind of a funny personality quirk of mine. For those of you poor, poor souls who knew me between the years of 2016-2019, you likely heard me rant and rave about my (perceived) inability to get laid. The real truth of the matter was: I was fucking terrified. I was a virgin because I was a stunted, scaredy-cat bitch.

I was intimidated by all the people I assumed lost their virginity in high school or in their freshman dorm-room or in a bathroom of some sorry music major’s party. I was disgusted by men who thought asking if I was “shaved down there” was a great first pick-up line (a real thing a real guy asked me in the annals of Tinder). I was jealous of all my friends who’d seemingly “gotten it over with” when they were sixteen, while I watched bootlegs of Spring Awakening and Next To Normal at 2AM while fantasizing about living in New York City amongst Broadway’s best and brightest.

The truth? I was so scared of the very idea of physical intimacy that I avoided it like the plague. So much so, that people started avoiding me. If I so much as told someone I was a twenty-year-old virgin, they would cut off the romantic interaction at the knees. In their defense, many of them provided a genuinely well-intentioned rationale for their rejection:

“You should have sex for the first time with someone you really like/love.”

I mean, duh. But to say that to a young, rejected, and completely irrational individual such as myself, who derived all of her self-worth from the opinions of the men around her? It was no better than a slap to the face. It wasn’t, but it sure felt like it at the time.

This is all to give you some understanding of the lived experience of nineteen-year-old me: young, outgoing, and intelligent, yes, but still desperate for any sort of male validation, no matter the source.

I was also one of the very fortunate undergraduates to be part of what we in academia call a “living-learning community.” That is really just a fancy phrase for “You get to live, work, and study with people like you* in an intellectually-stimulating environment.”

(*the punks, the weirdos, and the gays.)

As part of that program, I took a host of classes on niche humanities topics—Global Cult Cinema, Shakespeare & Kurosawa, Medieval Women…Basically, I took any class you would hear about in a right-wing podcast episode bemoaning the danger of a “radical” liberal arts education. Despite what Republicans might want you to think, these sorts of classes were a lifeline in a era of debilitating depression, unending anxiety, and a general lack of perspective or real world experience. The readings, music, and projects from that program seriously changed my life.

It was there, in that too-hot, too-cramped classroom, I found zines.

There was a little inside joke that flitted through the hallways of my dorm throughout my freshman year of college.

Once every four years or so, everyone’s favorite professor taught a coveted class in women’s media—music, literature, film, and zines. My advisor cheekily called the class “Dirty Books,” a reference to the sort of intense reading material the course covered in great detail. The idea of reading women’s erotica in a classroom full of other nineteen-year-olds elicited an awkwardly breathy laugh from the top of my throat.

I could see it so clearly—the image of twenty-to-twenty-five college kids discussing mutual masturbation and bondage at the seminar table, while I watched on in silent, red-faced embarrassment. I had nothing to add to a conversation about sex, after all.

Despite the rumors, Sense & Sensuality was actually a crash course in women’s lived experience and material culture. We read countless zines, personal essays, and novels, all written by women and/or non-binary writers, movers, and shakers.

A typical day in that seminar went like this:

• First, we received an introduction to a new femme-identified or AFAB musical artist. We heard one of their songs and watched a music video or two, followed by a mini discussion about the artist and their work. (This is where my love of punk music was born.)

• Then, we discussed the previous week or night’s readings, including works from Audre Lorde, Kathy Acker, Rita Mae Brown, and Toni Morrison. We all offered up some basic, undergraduate-level understanding of the reading and how we felt about it.

• Other times, we watched a film or short video about course topics—the history of Riot Grrrl, alternative press, etc.

  

Sense and Sensuality was equal parts revelatory and stinging. I found the words of so many incredible people I now hold up as purveyors of truly transformative movements—Riot Grrrl, Intersectional Feminism, Trans Rights, 80s hip-hop and DJ culture, and so many more.

At the time, I was very much interested in proving my worth, maturity, and academic prowess to my peers and the powers that be. So, I registered for the class and sought to intellectualize where I could not empathize. I could listen to cool music, read subversive books, and do it all with an all-knowing smirk on my face, right?

Truthfully, I was pathologically insecure. Instead of a careless smirk, I always presented with wide eyes and a deep-set frown. I felt my inexperience was painfully obvious to everyone. It seemed to reverberate through everything, including my first zine. I wrote with the voice of a crusader, but the words rang hollow. I was mostly play-acting at the unapologetic vibrato of zinesters like Kathleen Hanna and Tobi Vail, rather than really getting at the truth of anything.

I struggled against my nature at every turn and did not always succeed. I was thrown out of my comfort zone. I grasped stupidly at ideas and thoughts I’d only slightly begun to understand. I cried so many times that semester, wishing I could just be “normal,” whatever that meant.

I was also nineteen. With that age, came the endless obsessions. I was so convinced of my own narrative. I thought no one would ever want me. I thought I’d be a virgin forever. I thought I was broken beyond repair, and the only way I knew how to deal with any of that was to write what felt safe.

I felt remarkably unremarkable—utterly invisible.

The Invisible Girl zine

As I look back on this zine, I see a young woman in crisis. I see unfiltered vulnerability. I see a child begging to be taken seriously. I see so many conflicting viewpoints I no longer recognize. I see brutal honesty wrapped up in a lie.

I also see a clearly intelligent, interesting, and worthwhile person who was too hard on herself. I see the origins of my DIY ethos and artistic practice. I see the messy rebel locked inside the perfectionist people pleaser, intent on pushing her way to the surface by any means necessary.

While I no longer directly identify with most of this zine, I’m immensely proud of it. The threads of my life are so delicately sewn into its tactile, sun-bleached pages. It’s more than a time capsule. It’s an origin story. It’s a melody that still plays any time inspiration strikes again.

This is precisely what I love most about zines. I made this at a time in my life when I felt deeply unfulfilled. Creatively, I was adrift. Still, the raw expression of an artist is unmistakable, however gawky or inelegant.

That class gave me everything—music, zines, a place to go to whenever I felt the walls caving in all around me. Sense and Sensuality is why I work in a zine library and write a zine newsletter. It’s why I’m here, right now. Zines gave me a voice. My nineteen-year-old thoughts, feelings, and fears scream at me every time I pick this zine up.

“I’m here! Listen to me. Take a look.”

Upcoming Zine Workshops, Events, and Other Stuff

• 8-Ball, one of my favorite zine libraries and community spaces in NYC, is holding a fundraiser. Help them keep DIY culture alive for another twelve years! They need to raise $20,000 ASAP. Learn more and donate here.

• Index Space is hosting a 6-8 week zine intensive this Spring! If you’re in NYC, you can find the registration link here.

• Wasted Ink Distro is hosting a free virtual event on Zoom! It’s called “Voices of Dissent.” Join Wasted Ink to learn how to layout an 8-page zine and where to put it for free anti-copyright distribution. Register/Pay What You Can here.

‘Til Next Time!

Hi all! Thank you for reading this deeply personal issue of The Zine-O-Sphere. It’s an essential part of my zine story, so I wanted to highlight it before we get any deeper into the weeds. I will give a little bit of my zine librarian background in a future issue as well.

Admittedly, the last few weeks of consistent output have taken a toll on me. I have plans for many a future issue, but I need some time to re-focus and get some writing done. Rest assured, I will return to this newsletter very soon :)

Happy Zine Making!

The Zine-O-Sphere is your hub for all things zines, including books, libraries, digital collections, festivals, distros, workshops, and of course, individual zinesters and their incredible work. My hope is that by sharing these resources more widely, more folks will find their way to the wonderful world of zines.

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As much as I enjoy reading, buying, and making individual zines, there is something really special about zinesters and writers sharing their passion for zines in print books, especially those published by small presses.

Here are a few of my favorites :)

Zine Making:

• Whatcha Mean, What's a Zine?: The Art of Making Zines and Minicomics by Esther Pearl Watson and Mark Todd (The GOAT)

• Make A Zine: by Joe Biel with Bill Brent

Zine Culture & Subcultures:

• Stolen Sharpie Revolution: a DIY Resource for Zines and Zine Culture by Alex Wrekk

• Notes from Underground: Zines and the Politics of Alternative Culture by Stephen Duncombe

• Ripped, Torn and Cut: Pop, Politics and Punk Fanzines from 1976 by the Subcultures Network (Editor)

• Punk, Fanzines and DIY Cultures in a Global World: Fast, Furious and Xerox by Paula Guerra & Pedro Quintela

• Cut & Paste: The American Hardcore Fanzine Book by Tribal Publishing

• Girl Zines: Making Media, Doing Feminism by Alison Piepmeier

• 'Zine: How I Spent Six Years of My Life in the Underground and Finally...found Myself...i...think. by Pagan Kennedy

Zine Collections & Anthologies

• The Riot Grrrl Collection by Lisa Darms, Kathleen Hanna, et al.

• Copy Machine Manifestos: Artists Who Make Zines by Branden W. Joseph (Author) & Drew Sawyer

• Punkzines: British Fanzine Culture from the Punk Scene 1976-1983 by Eddie Pillar & Steve Rowland

• When Language Runs Dry: An Anthology of Stories From People with Chronic Pain by Various Authors

• Shotgun Seamstress: The Complete Collection by Osa Atoe

• From A to Zine: Building a Winning Zine Collection in Your Library by Julie Bartel

• The Archival Turn in Feminism by Kate Eichhorn

Note: Remember to look for all of these titles amongst friends and in your local library before you buy them! Then, if you REALLY like them, buy them :D

Upcoming Zine Workshops and Fests

1. Index Space is hosting a 6-8 week zine intensive this Spring! If you’re in NYC, you can find the registration link here.

2. Wasted Ink Distro is hosting a free virtual event on Zoom! It’s called “Voices of Dissent.” Join Wasted Ink to learn how to layout an 8-page zine and where to put it for free anti-copyright distribution. Register/Pay What You Can here.

3. The Secret Riso Club is hosting a workshop in how to apply for zine fairs on February 20th, 2025, TIME TBA. RSVP here.

‘Til Next Time!

I hope this selected list of books is helpful and piques your interest in learning more about zine history and culture! In the next issue of The Zine-O-Sphere, I’ll discuss my own personal zine ethos and background, as well as include a few photos of my own zines.

Happy Zine Making!

The Zine-O-Sphere is your hub for all things zines, including books, libraries, digital collections, festivals, distros, workshops, and of course, individual zinesters and their incredible work. My hope is that by sharing these resources more widely, more folks will find their way to the wonderful world of zines.

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Today, I made a minizine about this funny thing everyone always says to me.

“You always date people that could be another member of the Avett Brothers.”

Well—they’re not wrong exactly. I wish I could show you all just how true that statement is. For privacy’s sake, I made this zine instead. Thanks for the inspiration, !

Print it, fold it, cut it, and read all about my strange taste in men lolol.

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Hi there!

Have you ever wanted to buy some zines for your growing personal collection? Have you ever wanted to trade zines at a zine fest or punk show? Have you ever wanted to sell your zines, alongside other DIY art, comics, stickers, and accoutrements?

Well, have no fear! Your friendly neighborhood zine librarian is here to give you some options for doing all three :)

ZineFests

Zine Fests are a great place to buy, sell, and trade zines. They happen all over the world, particularly in major cities all across the United States. Some Zine Fests specialize in certain topics/zine types, while others highlight zinesters and makers of a particular community.

Here’s a list of the Zine Fests I’ve personally attended here in NYC:

• The East Village Zine Fair (my personal fav)

• NYC Feminist ZineFest

• NY Queer ZineFair

• Zine Fest NYC

Not located in NYC or LA? (I don’t blame you!)

There are SO many ZineFests to check out, likely in your area. Thankfully, zinester & Substacker has you covered 😎 For more information, please check out their website for a full list of active Zine Fests, Comics + Small Press Shows, and Art Book Fairs in the U.S. and Canada. Their well-organized break-down of festival dates, application deadlines, and locations is a great resource for any zinester or collector looking to participate in this incredible part of zine culture. As a librarian, I have to say, I’m impressed by its user-friendly nature too!

Speaking of…

Zine Libraries

Zines are also big in library land! Zines are collected, organized, and made available in a variety of institutions and community organizations, including academic and public libraries, non-profits, infoshops, and print shops. (For more, check out Barnard’s exhaustive list of Zine Libraries across the world. )

Here’s a list of my personal favorites :)

Academic Libraries:

• Barnard Zine Library

• Duke University Zine Library

• University of Texas Zine Collections

• Pace Zine Library

• Berea College, Berea, KY

• Atlanta Zine Library

Infoshops, Non-Profits, and Community Organizers:

• ABC No Rio Zine Library

• 8 Ball Zine Library

• Papercut Zine Library

• The Soapbox Community Print Shop & Zine Library

Public Libraries

• DC Public Library’s Punk Zine Collection

• LA Public Library Zine Collection

• Boston Public Library Zine Collection

Selected* Selling Platforms, Co-Ops, and Distros

The Internet also made it easier to sell, trade, and buy zines! There are so many places where zinesters can connect with their readers. Check out the selected list of distros, online retailers, and physical vendors below to discover where you can sell/buy zines.

It’s important to note that selling on platforms like Etsy and Depop can be troublesome when it comes to seller’s fees. I can’t and won’t speak for all zinesters and creators, but buying from Zine Fests, distros, physical zine retailers, and personal artist websites are a much better use of your money cause it all goes directly to the zinester and/or the distro/shop’s operating budget.

• Etsy

• Depop

• Storenvy (similar to Etsy)

• Printed Matter (NYC/East Village Zine & Art Book retailer)

• Forbidden Planet (NYC comic book and small press retailer)

• Ooga Booga (LA zine retailer)

• Zine Distros (for more, check out a full list of tried and true distros here)

  • Antiquated Future

  • Archive Six

  • Brown Recluse (features zines from BIPOC zinesters/creators only*)

  • Silver Sprocket (focus on comic zines)

  • Wasted Ink Zine Distro

This is by no means an exhaustive list of any of these resources, but I’ve tried to include as many links as I know personally. If you have a recommendation for a print shop, book shop, small press vendor, or distro in your area to include in a larger resource I’m planning, please feel free to send it to me. I’ll be compiling them all based on location and collecting/selling focus, along with submission guidelines and such.

Further Substack Reading

Want to start your own ZineFest? Zinester Miquela wrote up this awesome guide for planning/creating one in your local area!

Miq's Mix

How to Organize a Zine Fest

Oof, Crushes Zine Fest and Art Show, my lil baby, is happening this weekend already! Want to know how I have gotten to this point and become an organizer and co-organizer? Well, buckle up and put on your... learning hats (I am so tired…

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a year ago · 3 likes · Miquela

ZINE MUNCH

What is ZINE MUNCH?

“When intellectuals have nothing else to do, they start a magazine,” journalist Irving Kristol says in Arguing the World, a 1994 documentary about the New York Intellectuals, a mid-20th century circle of writers and critics. The tight-knit group gained notoriety for their fiery debates, an atmosphere which graduated the likes of Hannah Arendt, Richard H…

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4 years ago · 17 likes · 3 comments · Lucas Gelfond

Cake Zine

Out Now: Daily Bread!

Cake Zine friends…

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a year ago · 12 likes · Cake Zine

GUNKYARD by GUNK

February GUNK

I Accidentally Outsourced My Taste in Music…

Read more

a year ago · 8 likes · 1 comment · gunk and Sam Tiesworth

Upcoming Zine Workshops & Courses

1. Index Space is hosting a 6-8 week zine intensive this Spring! If you’re in NYC, you can find the registration link here.

2. Wasted Ink Distro is hosting a free virtual event on Zoom! It’s called “Voices of Dissent.” Join Wasted Ink to learn how to layout an 8-page zine and where to put it for free anti-copyright distribution. Register/Pay What You Can here.

   ---

‘Til Next Time!

I hope this selected list of resources for ZineFests, Distros, and Libraries is helpful to you zinesters looking to sell/trade, as well as those of you looking to buy and support your fellow creators and artists. In the next issue, I will feature some of my favorite books about zines :)

Happy Zine Making!

The Zine-O-Sphere is your hub for all things zines, including books, libraries, digital collections, festivals, distros, workshops, and of course, individual zinesters and their incredible work. My hope is that by sharing these resources more widely, more folks will find their way to the wonderful world of zines.

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Learn about my obsessions, creative projects, and why I hoard—ehrm collect! books, playlists, em-dashes, and browser tabs.

Here she is—

Print it out, fold it, read it, and post it! Double brownie points if you catch the title reference :)

Check out Krys and Miq’s zines here!

Krys' house of weird art and waffles.

Free zine - about me!

While I am home sick with allergy gunk running down my throat, I want to still post my free zine Thursday post!!! Print this out, fold it up and get to know about me…

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a year ago · 6 likes · Krys Kinsel

Miq's Mix

Free Zine Friday: Intro Zine

A zine all about me! Hi, hello…

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a year ago · 4 likes · Miquela

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So—what in the sam-heck are “zines”?

“Zines” are typically** defined as do-it-yourself (DIY) publications. (By the way, it’s pronounced zeeeeeeeen.) Those who create them are often called zinesters. What distinguishes zines in general is the personal nature of the content, whether the subject matter be diaristic or political.

Zines can be on pretty much any topic, but the most popular types include:

• fanzines

• perzines, or “personal” zines

• political/activist zines

• music zines

• art zines

• zines about health, sex, travel, comics, religion, and/or literature

The most common and traditional definition of a zine is a self-published, black-and-white photocopied booklet.** The number of copies is usually determined by the resources available. Historically, zines have been made by hand—the pages typed, drawn, written, collaged, glued, and taped—and then reproduced on a photocopier.

Today, most zines are still made by hand but may be scanned and printed at home. Some zinesters now make zines via desktop publishing while many continue to work in analog environments. Other zinesters work in both digital and analog environments. These days, are are tons of ways to make and print a zine, including a digital printing software, riso-graph machines, and offset printing at a print shop. Zines can come in every color, shape, binding, and size!

The important thing is that they are shared.

**Definitions of zines vary widely, even between individual zinesters! It’s important not to gatekeep or restrict, so long as they remain self-published, reproduced, and easily shared!

How do people find/share zines?

Pre-Internet, people exchanged zines via the postal service. Zines were also shared and traded amongst bands, fans, and concert-goers in local music and art scenes, including major US citites like New York, Chicago, Washington D.C., Portland, Los Angeles, Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, and more!

More recently, zinesters sell or trade them in person at zine fairs or sell them through "distros" (distributors) in stores or online. The more they cost to make, the higher the sale price. In the 1980s and 1990s, zinesters would make "free" copies at work or go to "Kinko's" to copy in black and white cheaply. Zinesters are now more likely to print at home and print in color. They are also more likely to sell their zines than to just trade. Kinko's is no longer, but FedEx and Staples are still destinations for photocopying. Local print shops also come in handy!

Where did zines come from?

Zines have a loooong history in the United States. They trace their origins to the alternative press cultures of the 18th and 19th centuries, including pamplets, little magazines, and religious tracts. In fact, zine editor Gene Mahoney calls Thomas Paine's revolutionary pamphlet Common Sense “the zine heard 'round the world,” due to its political nature. Other writer-activists like Mary Wollstonecraft and Ida B. Wells penned political pamphlets to raise awareness about women’s rights and the anti-lynching movement, respectively.

Harlem Renissance writers like Langston Hughes and Zora Neale Hurston also contributed to “little magazines” documenting black life, culture, literature, and history in the early 20th century, particuarly during the Jim Crow era and the Great Migration.

The term “zine” specifically refers to the science fiction “fanzines” of the 1930s. These publications were created by fan clubs and featured self-published science-fictional stories and meta-commentary. (So, the tumblr of the 1930s, I guess!)

Throughout the 20th century, zines continued to evolve as a medium across various communities, cities, and sub-cultures. Self-publishing and alternative presses were born out of the need for marginalized communities to communicate with each other, as well as educate, entertain, and share important resources. In particular, zines were favored by feminists (e.g. Riot Grrrl), punks, musicians, artists, small press publishers (e.g. City Lights), the Black Panthers, LGBTQIA+ folks, and labor unions.

Why zines now??

Zines blew up on the Internet. The last thirty years have seen a massive uptick in the making, sharing, and distribution of zines in the digital landscape. Zine libraries and collections have cropped up all across the world. Entire academic disciplines study zines as pedagogical objects and embodied, archived materials. There are museum exhibits dedicated to the history of zines.

In particular, members of Gen Z are increasingly interested in every aspect of zine culture. It makes a lot of sense, if you think about it. Gen Z is exhausted by (& addicted to) the endless barrage of digital content and minutiae. Our growing interest in zines and analog culture is more than a nostalgic call-back to long-lost moments of of yesteryear. We need the sort of community zine culture breeds. We trace our activist roots to the political zines our Gen X parents and professors made. We thrive in the self-publishing and DIY landscapes, thanks to our social media-driven upbringing. Zines are more popular now than ever.

As our friends at would say, Zines. Are. The. Future.

Further Substack Reading

I’m not the first, nor the last, Substacker to trace the history, origins, and varied definitions of zines. There are so many who have already done a better job of it! Here are some newsletters, articles, and zinesters you should check out.

Bre's Newsletter

Zines Started with the Harlem Renaissance...

New T-Shirt Drop 🛍️…

Read more

2 years ago · 4 likes · Bre

Bitch Sensei's Book Club

Zine Club #01: An Introduction // Margecore

Greetings, under-25-year-olds & iPad kids. Your subculture sensei is here to talk to you about zines — the blogs and email newsletters of yore made on this cool stuff called ‘paper…

Read more

a year ago · 19 likes · 2 comments · Bitch Sensei

Cream of The Crop

ZINE UPDATE: The Collective Imprint - A Global Zine Capturing Analog Creativity in 2025

If you’re viewing this message in an email, the content might be truncated. Please click here to read the full text…

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a year ago · 115 likes · 20 comments · SLART

‘Til Next Time!

On the next edition of The Zine-O-Sphere, we’ll talk all things zine fests, zine libraries, and zine distros 😎 For now, I will leave you with a question to ponder—

Do you have a favorite pre-2000s zine or pamphlet? Let me know yours in the comments below!

Mine is Willpower, a Replacements fanzine series from the 80s by none other than Bill Callahan of Smog :)

The Zine-O-Sphere is your hub for all things zines, including books, libraries, digital collections, festivals, distros, workshops, and of course, individual zinesters and their incredible work. My hope is that by sharing these resources more widely, more folks will find their way to the wonderful world of zines.

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Zines.

The people are asking—no, demanding, more zines. The excitement I see all over this platform about the potential of zines is mind-blowing. The numbers this single note did over the last few weeks is proof enough. The people want more zines and they want them now.

Before getting too deep into the weeds, I should introduce myself.

Hi! My name is Abby Schleifer, and I love zines. I’m a reader, a maker, and a long-time collector of zines. I’m also a zine librarian. Yup! That’s a real thing. I work in a small, university zine library in New York City. My actual day job consists of buying, arranging, and archiving zines of every shape, size, texture, and topic.

Thankfully, it’s not just me. There’s an entire network of zine libraries, archives, and collections all across the globe. There are entire disciplines devoted to the study, arrangement, and teaching of zines in K-12 and higher education. I was lucky enough to be exposed to this world early on as an undergraduate student back in 2017. One look at the cover of Bikini Kill #2, and I was hooked.

This is all to say, zines are clearly on the up-and-up.

When I joined Substack a little over a year ago, I had no idea that zines would be so sought after and popular here. Yet, already, there are efforts to build that demand into something more tangible.

Cream of The Crop

ZINE UPDATE: The Collective Imprint - A Global Zine Capturing Analog Creativity in 2025

If you’re viewing this message in an email, the content might be truncated. Please click here to read the full text…

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a year ago · 73 likes · 19 comments · SLART

Our friends over at SLART are creating a “worldwide zine collaboration that celebrates the pure, unrefined creativity of 2025.” The Collective Imprint will feature 100 artists, writers, illustrators, etc. from all walks of Substack life. The zine will explore the bounds of human, analog creativity within an ever-shifting, digital world. (Read more here to learn how you can get involved!) The flood of responses sure to come from this collaboration all speak to our human need for authentic, tactile experiences. Often times, those things get lost in the digital hum-drum of our screen-driven lives. I think it’s especially important we try and preserve them however we can.

What’s a great way to do that? Well, zines, of course!

Seeing the SLART alert in my inbox was like hearing a siren call. I’ve never shared my thoughts, joy, and passion for zines here on Substack, but it finally feels like a good time to start.

What’s the Zine-O-Sphere?

The Zine-O-Sphere will be a homebase of sorts. I will collect, arrange, and link to all things zines, including books, libraries, digital collections, festivals, distros, workshops, and of course, individual zinesters and their incredible work. My hope is that by sharing these resources more widely, more folks will find their way to the wonderful world of zines.

After all—

To make a zine is to reconnect with our human need to create, to imagine, and to express. To read a zine is to connect with another person and/or persons and their willingness to create, to imagine, and to express. To buy/collect a zine is to support others in their efforts to create, to imagine, and to express themselves authentically.

In a world dominated by media conglomerates, digital fatigue, and power-hungry right-wingers seeking to control the narrative, zines are still some of the best tools at our disposal to share information and speak truth to power. Zines are more than photocopied pages and stapled booklets. Zines are community. Zines are the very best of our creative expression. Zines are our past, our present, and, our future.

The Zine-O-Sphere exists in service to these ideas. I hope you all will subscribe and follow along with me as I explore the world of zines!

Some Cool Stuff to Get You Started

• A good book to read: Whatcha Mean, What's a Zine?: The Art of Making Zines and Minicomics by Esther Pearl Watson and Mark Todd (Oftentimes, your local library or local used bookstore will have this. Check those places first!)

• A good newsletter to read: Zinestack by

• A good song to listen to: “Feels Blind” by Bikini Kill (Nothing says zines like Bikini Kill, am I right?)

• A good zine to check out: The Punk Planet collection on Internet Archive (This is all good and above board. Creator Dan Sinker said so!)

• A good video to watch: How to make a zine from a single sheet of paper with

‘Til Next Time!

Be on the look-out for the first installment of the Zine-O-Sphere, where I’ll talk a little bit about the origins of zines and their use as tools in political activism and mutual aid :) If you have any thoughts, questions, or recommendations, please feel free to send ‘em my way!

**Logo Design Credit goes to my very good friend Carrey Hanrahan, graphic designer extraordinaire!**

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